GREED
by Robsmyyummy Cabanaboy
Summary: Greed: noun \grēd\ (Latin - Avaritia) 1 : a selfish desire to have more of something. Contribution to the seven deadly sins SALIGIA compilation from The Sinners posted on Fat Tuesday 2014.


**This was the one-shot I contributed to The Sinners seven deadly sins compilation, _SALIGIA_, which was released on Fat Tuesday 2014.  
**

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**Greed: **_noun_ \grēd\ (_Latin - Avaritia_)

1 : a selfish desire to have more of something

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**$GREED$**

"Leaving so soon?" Emmett sauntered out of the bathroom suite, wrapped in the hotel's finest luxury Turkish cotton. Condom wrappers tossed haphazardly on the floor and the scent of sex that lingered in the air still hinted at their latest round of fucking.

"Time's up, loverboy."

He watched her move with purpose around the room as she gathered her undergarments and briefcase. After sipping the last of her champagne, she took her coat from the rack.

"Same time next week?"

She smiled and tied the belt. "On the dot."

"I'll walk you out." He followed behind her, but as she reached for the door knob, he grabbed her wrist, spinning her around.

His semi-hard cock jabbed at her.

"Feel that?" His kiss was hard, his tongue teasing relentlessly. "Sure you need to go?"

"Got another grand?" Emmett was a great fuck, but this was about time, and time was money, and money was power.

And power…well, that was everything.

He pulled back, his eyebrow raised incredulously. "Come on." His mouth demanded hers again. "Chump change."

With her hand on his chest, she pushed him backwards a step to undo her belt, exposing her lace bra and panties. "All yours."

**.**

**.**

**.**

Emmett always made sure to wash the smell of pussy from his body before walking through the door. Rosalie might be flighty, but she wasn't an idiot. He doubted she'd ever be able to follow through on her threats to leave if she caught him screwing around— she loved the luxury of their life way too much— but he couldn't afford to call her bluff. His father was all about appearances, and there was no way Emmett would ever inherit the company if Carlisle knew he was having an affair.

Could he even call it an affair?

There were plenty of women who threw themselves at Emmett's feet, but he didn't pay them any attention and he certainly didn't pay them any cash. Only one lady had the power to make him stray and pay for it in the process.

_Isabella_.

He'd first met her at a political fundraising dinner for Senator Whitlock last summer. She was on the arm of some moronic executive from a competing oil company, but it didn't matter to Emmett. She was well-spoken, highly intelligent and her beauty was captivating. She was irresistible.

Three years of marriage to Rosalie Hale had him bored to death and sexually frustrated...he was downright deprived. Of course, as the only daughter of a high-energy, well-known TV evangelist, Rosalie wasn't about to let her man stick his dick any old place, husband or not. Emmett wished he'd received that memo prior to proposing. She had preposterous standards and insisted there were things in the bedroom that were completely unnecessary and beneath her.

Which is exactly why Emmett ended up beneath Isabella.

The night he met her, he flashed his dimples amidst mutual flirtatious looks, which ensured she'd have his number before he left with his plastic Stepford wife.

Emmett took her card as well, and couldn't even wait twenty-four hours before he called her. The fact that she turned out to be an escort didn't faze him in the least. The money was of little consequence; Emmett suddenly felt alive.

Isabella had him tied up and was riding his face an hour after they met for that first dinner. To say he lived for his standing weekly rendezvous on Thursdays was in no way an exaggeration.

And after those evenings, she was always at least a thousand dollars richer. It paid to be desirable. Paid very well, indeed.

**$GREED$**

Isabella flipped through her date book while her driver negotiated rush hour traffic on the LBJ.

"Straight to The Continental, Miss Swan?"

"No, I need to grab a few things at my place first. My appointment at The Continental isn't until noon."

"Yes, ma'am."

Isabella raised the privacy window in the car and dialed back the call she'd missed during her last go-round with Emmett.

"_Two unreturned phone calls…I was beginning to think you ran off with a younger man." _

She smiled at the irony. But no, nobody would ever take her eyes off this particular prize.

"I could never leave you, my love."

"_I'm glad to hear that." _His throaty chuckle still managed to send a rush of heat between her legs, despite their significant age difference._ "How about you go ahead and clear your schedule for Valentine's weekend next month."_

Isabella swallowed tightly, knowing that was a big money weekend for broken-hearted souls in need of company. She hated the thought of losing out on the cash. Last year on Valentine's Day weekend she spent a day and a half with a one-time client in town on business. He got his lonely rocks off and she got fifteen thousand dollars.

She quickly scanned her day planner. Actually…February fourteenth was Edward's weekend, but he wouldn't care. She'd make it up to him.

"Aww, you have something special planned, Sugar?"

Her sweetened tone only made him fall harder. _"Very special. We'll be going someplace warm and secluded. Very little clothing necessary, but you know you have your card and can go ahead and buy whatever you'd like to show off for me."_

Isabella's smile brightened when she heard she'd be able to use the black AMEX card again soon. Having a blank check— so to speak— at her fingertips was always nice, but she didn't want to be an outright thief. When he gave her the green light, she indulged and enjoyed every moment of doing so.

"I'll pick out a few little numbers that will dazzle you."

"_So that's a yes?"_

She gave herself only a few seconds to hem and haw. It would be worth it in the end. There was a game plan here, and she had to stick to it.

"Yes, of course I'll join you. I can't wait to see what you have planned. You always spoil me, baby."

"_Perfect. Now, when can I see you again? You've been busy with your business trips and seminars."_

"I'm just back from a symposium in New York, actually." The lie rolled off her tongue so easily. "How about I cook for you on Sunday?"

"_Shall I send a car for you?"_

"No, I'll have Felix drive me. Be there by three, okay?"

"_Sounds perfect. See you then."_

Isabella punctuated the call with her signature kiss and smiled. Valentine's weekend with her sugar daddy. Though she could have turned him down very easily, knowing there was money to be made on such a holiday for lonely hearts, she needed to put in her time if she hoped to get her hands on Cullen Oil someday.

The privacy window lowered a crack before she heard her driver's voice. "It's a parking lot, Miss Swan. We might be here a while. Radio says there's an accident up ahead about a mile or so."

"Thanks, Felix. But if we're here for too long, you're going to have to do your best Moses impression and part those cars. I can't be late for The Continental."

"Yes, ma'am." He raised the window as Isabella leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Exhaustion was finally catching up with her after the week she had. Her schedule kept her extraordinarily busy, and in turn, extraordinarily wealthy. There's no rest for the weary though, and there sure as hell isn't any money for the weary, either.

As long as she played her cards right, Easy Street would be right around the corner. Being married to Carlisle Cullen would be the ultimate game-changer. To be on the arm of the man who owned a fifteen billion dollar oil company was nothing to sneeze at. With all that money came power and prestige — Isabella salivated at the thought. People who had money like that made others stop and listen, had them working for them day and night, and were constantly at their beck and call. The amount of influence that walked hand in hand with that kind of money was incomparable and Isabella's ultimate goal. The power she and Jasper could wield together would be unparalleled.

She'd carved out quite a name for herself— discreetly, of course— in the few years since she graduated college. Yes, she had her degree in international business— even had the business cards to prove it. But to make it to the top, or at least be somebody who counted in that field, was entirely too long and arduous a journey. She wanted that money, that privilege…the clout that came with that position of authority, and she didn't want to wait to get it.

It was all about being the puppet master… the need for power. Isabella was always in complete control and planned every step meticulously. Even as a young girl, she knew what she wanted, knew how to get it, and more often than not, took it without apology.

Her childhood in Los Angeles was not a memorable one. She was frequently reminded that she was the inconvenient result of some one-night stand after an Aerosmith/Guns N' Roses concert back in '88. Isabella's father was never in her life. As for her mother, she was barely there, either. Her mom tried her best, but Renee was more of a train wreck than anything else. They fought like cats and dogs while her mom tried to force Bella to be young and carefree and all Bella wanted was the routine and order Renee could never provide.

Once Isabella was accepted into college, she hugged her mother goodbye and left without turning back. Isabella assumed that Renee knew it was safer for the two of them to part ways with minimal contact and she was thankful for her mother's insight in that regard. Isabella sent the woman a present on Christmas and her birthday, usually a gift card to a local grocery store, because Renee was just mindless enough to forget to shop for food at times. Singing in dive bars, painting and trying to sell her so-called "art" on Venice Beach, braiding hair and drawing henna tattoos…her mother was a jackass of all trades. Last she heard, some deadbeat guy named Phil had latched onto her and was mooching off her spectacularly sparse resources. They were a match made in mediocrity heaven.

At the University of Texas, Isabella excelled as a major in international business. Her GPA never wavered from a 4.0, but it wasn't all because of her intelligence. Oh, she was incredibly smart. But one day late in her junior year, she learned that her body— coupled with her knack for carrying on an educated conversation— was going to be her ultimate weapon.

Isabella always sat in the front row to ensure her professors knew she was serious and eager to learn, unlike some of the clowns and half-drunk frat guys who occasionally stumbled their way into the early morning lectures and labs. These amateurs made eyes at her, but she simply ignored them, knowing full well they weren't worth her time. She was usually able to get away from them before they got close enough to speak to her, but one morning, a putrid-smelling kid from Sigma Tau Delta sidled up to her. The Greek letters STD couldn't have been a coincidence.

"You know…I came here for you today."

Isabella didn't bother to look up; she just rolled her eyes and continued to pack her backpack.

"I usually ditch, but I've seen you here a couple times and knew I needed to get with you. Always so sexy with your glasses on, taking notes." He got closer to her ear. "That pen tapping at the edge of your lips when you listen to the lectures. I'd love to see what you'd look like with something else between your lips...both sets."

Isabella's mouth fell open while shocked humor played at her eyes. She could have responded in any number of ways, but decided to go for the obvious. "Do you realize you smell like a cesspool?"

Frat boy furrowed his brows. "A what?"

"A cesspool," she repeated loudly. "A large pit of raw sewage. Though some girls might consider you mildly attractive, sadly for you, I'm not one of them. My advice to you regarding future propositioning techniques would be that you shower first, to get rid of the combined smell of Drakkar, beer, vomit and splooge from your body before you try to talk to a girl. You might have better luck, Casanova."

He stood there stunned, as Isabella spun on her heels and marched out of the lecture hall past a chuckling professor.

"Miss Swan?" Isabella stopped short and looked over her shoulder. "May I see you in my office, please?"

_Oh fuck_. She berated herself as she followed behind Professor Lee, worried she was about to be in trouble for what just went on with sewage boy. The fact that she had an enormous crush on this teacher didn't make things any easier. He was young, probably in his early thirties. He always wore a tie, but never a jacket. His sleeves were usually rolled to his elbows, and the glasses he wore made him look positively succulent.

Isabella got off more times than she could count to the image of this man writhing underneath her.

He placed his briefcase on his desk and loosened his tie while she immediately launched into an apology.

"I'm sorry for being so rude out there, Professor Lee. I'm not at all interested in dating, and that guy just—"

He held his hand up. "I'm not about to scold you for what I just witnessed out there. Didn't you see me laughing? That idiot deserved it right between the eyes."

"Oh! Well, okay." Shifting on her feet, she smiled in relief and readjusted her backpack on her shoulder. "So, is there something else you needed?"

"Well, two things, actually. The first is that I was hoping you might be interested in being a teaching assistant for me. Interims just went out and you're earning perfect marks. I have a couple of one hundred level courses that I could use your help in. They'd be paid positions through work-study, if you'd like."

Give up her job as a file clerk in the alumni house to work next to this man several times a week instead? Yes, please!

"I'd love to."

"It would be a full year position. I'd need you through the summer sessions. Will that work for your schedule?"

"Oh, definitely," she answered eagerly as they both grinned. "I mean, I have no summer plans at this point. I could stay on campus."

"Excellent. The second thing I needed to talk to you about is a little more of a confidential matter, requiring complete discretion, but I think you'd be up for it."

"Okay?" She was unsure at this point, but willing to listen to anything this gorgeous man would speak about.

"I've learned that a student in our program will need some help this summer, but he won't be attending any classes on campus."

"He's a distance education student?"

"Not exactly, he lives here in Austin. He's considered a full-time student on campus but he's been watching recordings of my lectures, of all the lectures in the program. They'll need to be hand-delivered to him. Along with any of the required reading, handouts, tests, etcetera. The student who's currently helping him has plans to transfer at the end of the semester."

Isabella's eyes searched the room, looking for answers in her head as to why a student who lives in Austin won't come to campus for classes. She decided to leave it alone…for now.

"We can talk more about it as the summer session approaches. But as for the TA position, you can start whenever you'd like."

.

.

.

It didn't take long before she found herself working long hours in Professor Lee's—_Garrett's_— office. Between grading papers and helping him with research for his second doctoral dissertation, she felt completely comfortable going to his home on the weekends. Their chemistry was undeniable. She would've fallen into bed with him immediately if he asked her, but she knew she had to be careful. This was her education. If things went sour, he could report her instantly. But she wanted him so badly she could taste it.

And that's when it hit her like a lightning bolt. He had just as much to lose, maybe more. Not that she intended to hurt him…but if they started something, it would be just as risky on his part as it would be on hers. Knowing she had that kind of power over the situation gave her a rush of adrenalin and she launched herself at him.

It took no convincing for Garrett as she stripped him down and blew his mind while she blew his cock. The man saw stars. They spent the night kissing and licking and fucking and sucking until the sun peaked through his cheesy Venetian blinds.

"I hope this won't change anything," Bella hinted as she dressed. "I still want to work for you and help out with that student this summer."

Garrett leaned down to kiss her, grasping her chin gently. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

.

.

.

About a month later, Isabella found herself in the 2nd Street District, being buzzed up to the 52nd floor of The Austonian. The level of luxury surrounding her had Isabella's heart racing. She was headed to one of the penthouses, no less. Wonder what this guy's deal was? Clearly he had bank. Maybe if she flirted enough, she could get a rich boyfriend out of the deal. She really didn't _do_ boyfriends, though. She liked sex, of course, who the hell didn't? But getting tied down into one relationship was only going to hinder her pursuit to have it all. When you settled with one, your options vanished.

No…single but enjoying life was the only way to be. Maybe he'd turn out to be a new fuck buddy who was generous with his wallet? That might work. Garrett didn't share his money with her, but he sure as hell fucked like a Greek God _and_ she passed his class with flying colors. It was a win-win in her book.

She pursed her lips, smiling to herself. _You're so bad, Isabella. What? You're hoping to be a kept woman? More like aspiring to be a hooker. No, never a hooker. Maybe a high end call girl. Yep, that'll be the day. _She rolled her eyes at her asinine inner musings and rang the doorbell once the elevator opened.

"**Yes?" **

"Uhh, yeah. I just buzzed you from downstairs? I'm Isabella Swan." There was nothing but silence from the other end of the intercom. "I brought over your books and syllabi for your classes this semester."

At least thirty seconds passed with no response._ Is this a joke?_ Suddenly, a series of locks sounded like they disengaged and the door opened to…nobody.

What. The. Hell?

The only light that she could see was coming in from the floor to ceiling windows out in the living room, but she was in a darkened entryway.

"Just put everything on the table in the foyer."

Isabella looked behind her and saw a sleeve poking out from behind the large, open door. Turning back toward the table, she unpacked her backpack, laying out the three textbooks, a flash drive and two file folders of paperwork labeled _EAM._

"Thank you," said the disembodied voice, its owner still hidden from Isabella's curious eyes. "That envelope is for you."

She glanced behind the centerpiece to see her name elegantly written in calligraphy.

"And what's this?"

"Your fee."

Her face scrunched in confusion. "I'm not supposed to be paid for this. I was just bringing it by because it's part of my job as Garr— err, Professor Lee's teaching assistant."

"It's not a problem. I'd be paying a messenger if it wasn't you doing the transporting. Take it."

Isabella was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Money was money and she could use every penny. Her apartment for the summer session was costing her an arm and a leg.

"So…did you need me to go over anything with you?" she offered, feeling awkward that she was carrying on a conversation with a large steel door.

"No, I'm quite capable. I'll see you in a few days with whatever else is assigned throughout the week."

Isabella nodded to the voice and hoisted her bag up onto her shoulder again.

"Okay, well…I'll see ya," she mumbled with an eye roll, walking out. The door slammed behind her and the locks re-engaged. "Or hear ya." She snorted to herself. "Fuckin' wacko."

.

.

.

Over the next few weeks, Isabella's mystery project— also known as the sleeve and voice from behind the door— eventually got a little more comfortable with her. In was on their fifth encounter that he finally permitted her to see his face and officially introduced himself.

Though very attractive behind his dark half frames, with a head of brown, unruly hair and an impressive stature, Edward Masen was still very much an enigma to her. He was always in the shadows, never allowing Isabella to get close enough to examine him fully to see whether or not he was worth the effort.

She made the short trip to his home twice a week, once on Thursdays to drop off the flash drive with the recorded classes as well as any handouts, and once on Sunday evenings to pick up papers and take-home tests he needed to return to his professors.

Each time she went, there was a crisp, one hundred dollar bill waiting for her in an envelope. For merely walking the two blocks from campus to Edward's apartment and back, Isabella earned two hundred dollars a week.

It was too simple. So simple that she wanted more. It made her wonder what else she could do to earn quick and easy money like that.

.

.

.

By the first week of August, both summer sessions were completed. Isabella was facing three weeks of well-deserved vacation before her senior year began. She had to make one final run to Edward's home to drop off a letter from the Dean of the department.

"Hello." He nodded with a smile as she stepped inside the door.

"Hey. Just wanted to drop off this letter from Dean Fuller." Their hands ghosted each other's during the exchange. He didn't recoil as she thought he would.

"Thank you. I appreciate it. Uhh, hang on a second." He left the foyer for only a moment and came back pulling another hundred dollar bill from his wallet. "I would've had it in an envelope had I known you were coming."

Isabella put her hand up to halt him. "Oh, really. It's not necessary…this one's on me."

"You're sure?"

"Definitely," she confirmed, taking a step back. "So, Dr. Fuller said if you want me to continue to do so, I can still be your messenger once the new school year starts, but it's ultimately up to you."

"Okay." He offered her nothing else; she suddenly felt awkward.

"Well, enjoy your break." She turned toward the door with a little less spring in her step. She could only speculate as to why.

"Wait, Isabella…before you go." She glanced over her shoulder and found him with his eyes downcast for a moment. "Would you, uhh…would you want to stay for dinner…I mean, if you don't already have plans? Maybe to celebrate the end of classes?"

She was stunned at the sudden invitation. In a bizarre turn, her mystery project was giving her a sign of life. Isabella never grew attached to anything, she just wasn't that type of emotional person, but ever since she started interacting with Edward in his darkened entryway, she'd felt an odd pull to discover more about him.

"I don't have any plans."

He shrugged, extremely unsure of the route he was taking. "It's just that— well, aside from Felix who runs my errands— I don't speak to anyone and I just figured…"

A coy grin danced across Isabella's face. "You don't have to say anything else." She dropped her book bag from her shoulder and took charge. "Do you like barbeque?"

.

.

.

"I don't really have anyone I'm close to either," Isabella confessed, wiping the excess sauce from her fingers.

"I know."

"You _know_?" She was taken aback, more confused than anything.

He quickly corrected himself. "I mean, I know how hard you work in your classes and for Professor Lee. And then always running here for me…you must not have many distractions outside of school…like me." Edward threw the rib he'd been picking at on the plate between them. They sat on the floor in his living room with the fading light of day above the Austin skyline still attempting to illuminate his apartment.

Isabella nodded. "Yeah, I've never done well with people getting and staying close with me…that's why I keep myself so busy. I need to make sure I'm always in the driver's seat. Having friends usually means compromising and giving up a little control." Isabella snorted. "Needless to say, I'm not very good at that."

He sighed deeply. "Thank you for not giving up on this job," he whispered before continuing. "I know I didn't make it easy for you in the beginning."

"You don't have to explain." She shook her head. "I'm just glad we bridged a little gap." Isabella hesitated before her boldness took over, demanding the answers she'd speculated on for the last ten weeks. "So...you never go out. I've never seen anyone else visiting you with the exception of Felix who I've only ever seen in the lobby downstairs. You keep yourself shrouded in darkness. Are— are you a hermit or something?"

His crooked half-grin appeared; it was endearing. "Technically agoraphobic. I don't do well in crowded places. I like the silence and solitude— need it, actually. It comforts me."

"Huh. Were you always like this?"

He sniffed and took a sip of his sweet tea. "My drugged-out father abandoned me in a shopping mall in Virginia when I was three. It was the day after Thanksgiving, so the crowds were hefty all day long. I was playing in a toy store for a while, nobody paid attention enough to see that I was on my own. I ended up following this family into a department store and was playing hide and seek with their little boy."

Isabella cracked a smile, but it was a sad one, knowing this story wasn't going to have a happy ending.

"I hid inside one of those circular clothing racks, you know? Well anyway, after a few rounds, my new friend just never came looking for me again." Edward shrugged. "Eventually some lady spotted me and realized I was on my own. I don't remember much else, just that I was surrounded by police officers for several days. Ended up in the custody of the state." Edward's head whipped toward the windows when a flash of lightning cut across the sky. "I didn't talk much after that," he confessed, reaching for another rib. "And nobody wanted to adopt a mute orphan."

"So how did you end up with so much money?"

Edward started chuckling at Isabella's bluntness. He wasn't at all offended…he wanted to tell her his story. Felix knew the abridged version, but nobody else knew the details, and somehow he wanted her to be the first.

"The less-than-stellar doctors who handled my case just rubber stamped some papers saying I was mentally disabled because I wasn't talking. So, I was placed in a group home rather than foster care. I don't remember how it all transpired, but some neighbor of my grandparents' came to visit a relative in the same group home I was in." He shrugged, popping a fry in his mouth. "Small world, I guess. Supposedly, I looked just like my dad, and this lady flipped out when she saw me there."

"Was your dad still around to take care of you?"

"Nahh. He'd been in and out of rehabs since before I was dropped on his doorstep by my coked-up mother. My grandparents had no idea where he was because they'd disowned him years earlier. Once their neighbor started telling tales of this little orphan who looked identical to their son, who was also stuck in a group home, they had an attack of conscience.

Isabella listened with rapt attention. Renee seemed like Mother of the Year in comparison to the shit Edward dealt with as a young boy.

He sighed, chugging the last of his tea. "Turns out they weren't very nice people…or at least not emotionally equipped to deal with my issues. So between me not talking and them with no interest in trying to get to the root of my problems, it was easier to just send me to boarding school and set me up with a hefty savings account to draw from."

"That kinda rots." Isabella pushed her plate away, her appetite gone. "Do you ever hear from them?"

Edward shook his head. "They both died when I was a teenager."

"Jesus."

"Ehh, it's really no loss on my part. I've managed."

It was impossible to conceive that a life in solitude and darkness was considered "managing". A silence descended for a couple of minutes and it made Isabella uncomfortable, like whatever bonding they might have done tonight had come to an end.

"And how did you meet Felix?" She tried to resuscitate the conversation.

Edward stood and started collecting the plates. "I was bullied ruthlessly at school because I kept to myself as much as possible. Felix had enough one day and intervened," Edward explained, mirth creeping into his tone. "He made it a point to wait for me after classes and walked me back to my room. I didn't thank him…didn't even say a word to him for over two months, but he didn't seem to care."

"Wow."

"He let me be me," he continued with a shrug. "And that's what I needed. Just has a good heart, I guess."

"Sounds like it. I'm glad you have him."

"Me too." Though quiet for several beats, Edward piped up again. "Thanks for caring enough to want to know me. I usually just creep people out."

Isabella's smile matched Edward's. "Everybody needs a friend, right?" She thought about the words she'd just spoken. Aside from Garrett, who only fucked her for a good time and her impeccable research skills, Isabella had nobody in her life she could lean on. A few acquaintances here and there, but nobody of significance.

She and Edward exchanged quick glances as they finished clearing their dinner from his coffee table. If a man who knew and trusted almost nothing but the shadows had opened up to her, maybe she could learn a bit of that same kind of trust.

Isabella didn't understand his life. For her, life was about being out and about, the drive to seek to be the center of attention in order to gain the wealth and power she'd hoped to achieve…but maybe she could still learn to find it in herself to be a friend to this man.

Perhaps.

.

.

.

Isabella continued to see Edward twice a week to bring his school work by. She wouldn't stay long, but ever since their dinner that night in August, there was an unspoken camaraderie that gave each of them some contentment. They'd commiserate on the workload, compare answers on take-home tests. Their relationship, as it stood, just…worked.

And though she found some level of comfort in that darkened doorway, her need for acquiring the most knowledge, the most attention, the most wealth…the most power never waned. It seemed to be a thirst she couldn't ever completely quench.

Later that fall semester, Isabella found herself knocking on her Finance professor's office door. Sickened when she received a seventy-four percent on her midterm, she needed to figure out how to do some extra credit, or at least get some extra help and quickly.

"Come in."

Isabella pushed open Dr. Hunter's door to find him typing away at his laptop.

"Isabella?" He invited her to have a seat. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm really concerned about my grade on the midterm, Dr. Hunter. I wanted to meet with you to find out if there's anything I can do to improve. I _have_ to get an 'A' to keep my GPA up. I'll do anything."

With no additional projects aside from the cumulative final—which was only worth ten percent more than the midterm— she'd need a perfect score to even hope for a solid 'B' in the class.

"I give no opportunities for extra credit. Your only chance to boost your grade would be to excel on the final. Perhaps you should find a study partner or tutor."

Isabella knew without question that Edward would work with her, helping her where she struggled. But a wicked idea she'd been toying with suddenly became a desire she wanted to explore. Perhaps she could offer Dr. Hunter something else. She saw how he watched her.

"Is there anything else I can do?" There was no denying the seductive tone in her voice. Offering her body in exchange for a better grade seemed to be the next logical step in Isabella's warped mind. Without hesitation, she went with her gut instinct. She stood, walking around his large mahogany desk, and stopped in front of the man who held her academic fate at this moment in time.

He said nothing, just continued to stare up at her as she started to unbutton her blouse.

"Are you single, Dr. Hunter?" Her fingers slid delicately as each flicked open another button. "I'm not blind. I see you staring at me during class. Do you think of me when you go home at night?"

The words flowed from Isabella's mouth so easily. It would baffle anyone else that she was throwing herself at her teacher's feet, but she felt no remorse.

She only felt the rush…the high...the power.

"I could have you expelled from the International Business program for this display."

She slipped her blouse from her shoulders and unzipped the side of her linen skirt, thanking her lucky stars that she wore a matching bra and panty set today. It certainly didn't hurt that they were lacy and the bra practically see-through.

"You could…but you won't." Her skirt slid down her hourglass hips as she stepped forward, still wearing cream sling-backs on her perfectly manicured feet.

"What do you think is going to happen here?"

His terse question stiffened her spine, but she wouldn't be deterred. This was going to work. It _had _to work.

"I want you to know that you're in charge," she purred, kneeling down between his legs. The bulge in his crotch was becoming more well-defined with each passing second. "You can use my body however you'd like." She reached for his buckle as his eyebrow rose to a point. "I just need to know that you'll take care of me…" Her index finger traced the outline of his hardened cock. "…while I take care of you."

"I won't throw out your grade."

"I don't expect you to." His buckle made a clanking sound under her manipulation while her eyes locked on his as she pulled his zipper down. "I just expect that perhaps you'll consider this extra effort on my part— ongoing, if you'd like— when you take into account my grades in December."

She reached into his pants and unleashed his thick erection. The swollen, sensitive tip leaked at the promise of Isabella's lust-filled words. Her eyes hooded, she gave one final glance to her professor whose gaze was still trained on her face. After a few tugs, she lowered her mouth and swept her tongue up the side of his shaft, swirling at the head.

Dr. Hunter's head fell back on his chair, and he readjusted his hips to get more comfortable. Though he attempted to feign shock for those first few moments when she arrived in his office, clearly he had no moral issues with Isabella's proposal. While he enjoyed the sensations, she slurped, sucked and hummed her way to a guaranteed grade far above what she'd just earned on her midterm. The grunts and moans he made while she pleasured him gave her the high she was seeking. She wanted more of it. Not only was he turning _her_ on sexually— the wetness between her thighs making itself known— but she owned him in that moment. He was at her mercy and she felt it thrum through her body. The control that she held in her hands made her soar. It was everything she'd always craved.

Pure power.

This was only the beginning.

.

.

.

"We should go into business together."

Isabella paused mid-chew, so as to not choke on her lo mein. "Edward, you're sweet, but you don't want to go into the business I'm considering."

"Why not?" He emptied a third packet of duck sauce into a bowl for his egg roll. "I know you struggled in Macro and Micro, but I can take care of the numbers part."

"Don't forget Finance," she added with an internal smirk.

"Yeah, but you came back and killed it in the end."

Poor Edward, if he only knew what she did to get that 'A' in Finance last semester. Not to mention her threesomes with the Macro and Micro professors.

She shook her head. "You're about to start a career as an international economist, Edward. You're a damn genius."

"But I'll need someone to go out and represent me at times. That could be your role. Take the business trips, shake the hands…you know."

Isabella sighed, feeling the need to be deadly honest with Edward. "I appreciate your confidence in me, but I've taken a job on Senator Whitlock's staff. I need the money as soon as possible. I can't chance starting out as an entrepreneur like you."

Edward looked completely crestfallen. It was the first outward expression of emotions she'd seen since she met him a year ago.

"We'd be great together." His words were all he had to give. If she couldn't see that, his proposition was just a sinking ship.

"You'll do fine on your own. Everything is handled on computers nowadays. You would never need to step out of your apartment. Maybe a phone call from time to time, but that's it."

He nodded with a smile nowhere near genuine. At this point, he just needed to be alone again.

Bella, on the other hand, did her best to scramble and pull the right words from thin air. Though their working relationship had evolved over the year into a true friendship, Edward just didn't have the power and clout that she needed to harness in order to make it to the top of the game.

Their relationship was just safer if it remained friendly.

**$GREED$**

Felix opened the door and helped Isabella out of the town car. "What time will you be ready to leave, Miss Swan?"

Isabella pulled her sunglasses down her nose. "Felix, you've been driving me around for the last year and a half. We've known each other for almost three years through Edward. Don't you think it's time you started calling me Isabella?"

A reticent grin appeared. "Not while we're on the job, ma'am."

"But you don't even call me by my name when you're off the job," she countered, grabbing her Diet Coke from the cup holder.

"That's because I don't ever see you after hours."

Isabella wrapped her lips around her straw, making a show of her sip. "We could always remedy that, you know," she purred with a wink.

He chuckled and closed the door as she stepped away. "Edward would plot my murder."

"Oh stop," she scoffed with a wave. "He's never laid a hand on me. There's no claim there." She walked backwards in her four-inch stilettos. "I'd give you the friends and family discount." Her light-hearted tone didn't freak Felix out, but he knew there were limits, no matter how enticing Miss Swan made the offer.

He shook his head with a smile. "Call me when you need me."

She waggled her eyebrows, turning, and headed toward the elevators to meet her next client.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Isabella poured a glass of wine to enjoy while she waited for Peter to contact her. Thankfully, she'd left a bottle in the fridge when she was last here. Walking over to the sliding door to look out on the horizon, she spied the ominous cloud cover heading toward Dallas. The meteorologists were all squawking about the supposed ice storm and frigid temperatures on their way for the next couple of weeks. She'd believe it when she saw it. Yes, the temperature would dip from time to time, but it had been years since Dallas had seen any snow or ice during its normally mild winters.

If anything was going to happen, she hoped it wouldn't ruin Carlisle's Valentine weekend plans. It was clearly important to him, and in turn, it needed to be important to her. The end result…the bottom line was all that ever mattered. And Carlisle was the bottom line.

A sharp rap sounded at the door, forcing her mind to calibrate and bring on her game face. She'd never regret the hand she dealt herself, but she needed to make it work until the windfall arrived. As she walked toward the door, Isabella took several quick sips so as to not waste the Chardonnay.

A look through the peephole showed Peter waiting for her, hands clasped in front of him…looking ever the secret service agent. Isabella rolled her eyes at the display. If he ever made it as far as the White House, she'd faint dead away. For now he was simply a glorified bodyguard because he was a close friend of the Senator.

"Peter," she greeted him with a sardonic grin. "Nice to see you again."

He nodded curtly. "Miss Swan." Stepping inside, he remained at the door, glancing at his watch while she finished her wine and placed the glass in the sink. "Will you be much longer?"

"Oh, Peter…get over yourself. I've been here for twenty-five minutes waiting on Jasper. If he's annoyed that I'm delayed by ninety seconds because I finished my wine, he'll have to suck it up."

"He has other places he needs to be, not the least of which is back home in Houston with his wife and child."

Isabella threaded her arms through her trench coat, her head cocked. "Do you have something you need to say to me?"

"No."

She started laughing, heading for the door. "You're a lousy liar, Peter. I don't think you like me very much." He gave no response, just waited until she walked past him and pulled the door closed.

"My opinion of you has nothing to do with my job…and right now I'm doing my job."

"Even if you don't like it." Isabella's snarky comment was enough to push his buttons.

"You're a whore. And you're fucking a happily married man," he spat. "I don't know how you sleep at night."

She quirked her brow as they stopped at the elevators. While that all may be true, he'd need to try a little harder if he really wanted to hurt her. "Anything else?"

He rolled his neck after adjusting his tie. "No."

"Let me ask you a question." They straightened and stepped to the side when the elevator doors opened and a family with a couple of children filed out. As the doors closed again, she leaned on the rails while they traveled to the top floor. "Are you happily married?"

"Yes."

Her eyes narrowed going in for the kill. "And were you happily married last fall at the benefit?"

His nostrils flared when he realized where she was heading.

"I think we can both agree that you've been bitter ever since I turned you down."

He swallowed tightly, looking down at the woman who'd stomped all over his ego several months ago.

"I think we remember two different versions of the story. Let's just leave it at that, shall we?"

She threw her head back and cackled as they reached the penthouse floor. "What version do you remember, Peter? Is it the one where you slipped your hand between my thighs and fingered me as we sat at the dinner table? When you knew I was someone else's date that night, no less?"

He stared straight ahead with no reaction.

"I was talking to your wife, looking directly into your darling Charlotte's eyes while you were knuckle-deep in my pussy. How did_ you_ sleep that night?" Isabella approached the door of the penthouse. "Because I didn't cause a scene, you expected that I'd let you fuck me for free?" She clicked her tongue a few times. "Nobody gets it for free, baby. Not even the dear, _happily_ married Senator."

"You certainly didn't complain," he scoffed. "You were fucking soaked." Peter banged on the door waiting for Jacob to answer.

Isabella pulled on Peter's arm and tipped her head up to whisper in his ear. "I was soaked because Jasper had just eaten me out in the lounge, honey. It had absolutely nothing to do with you." She puckered her lips and kissed his jaw just as he ripped his arm away.

"Fucking cunt."

"Is there a problem?" Jacob, Jasper's chief of staff interrupted, having heard the last words Peter sneered.

"Not at all!" she chirped, stepping forward. "See ya, Pete!"

**.**

**.**

**.**

"Fuck me, YES!"

Jasper grunted while he drilled into Isabella from behind, her pulsing walls milking him to the point where he couldn't hold out another second. He pulled out with a roar and stroked his cock furiously as ribbons of his release splattered across her back.

He fell next to her on the bed and pulled her sweaty, spent body on top of his. When they came face to face, he kissed her hard.

"You taste like sex," she moaned, as their tongues danced in and out of each other's mouth.

The senator chuckled. "You fucking love it."

She hummed and continued to writhe against him. "I do."

After Bella rinsed off in the shower, she found Jasper, still naked, smoking a cigarette in bed. She waltzed over to him before dropping her towel and straddling his lap.

"The Surgeon General would be mighty disappointed in you right now, Senator. Not only smoking, but doing it in bed of all places. Talk about a fire hazard."

He blew the smoke out of his nose, flicking the ashes into the glass dish next to him. "Yeah, well, he's a Republican like me, so he'll probably forgive this little transgression."

She smiled as he turned the cigarette around, allowing her a puff. After they smoked it down to the filter, Jasper stubbed it out and wrapped his hand through Isabella's hair, bringing her face to his.

"I missed you, beautiful." He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and nipped it when he felt her readjusting her heated core on his lap. "How was New York?"

After their kisses slowed to a few pecks, Isabella responded. "Went really well, I think. Senator Martinson was extremely satisfied from what I gathered," she boasted with a grin.

Jasper snickered and kissed her again.

"I'm sure you'll be hearing from him shortly regarding the new bill."

"Well, good!" He dug his fingers into the flesh of her ass, picked her up and sat her directly on his crotch, his dick just about ready for round two. "You deserve some extra attention for that one."

She giggled and sighed as his hand moved to cup her, the tips of his fingers sweeping through the wetness that gathered between her legs.

"I certainly do. He was into some kinky shit, too. That man had me holding a whip and wearing Catwoman suit— no lie— and before being ball-gagged, he begged me to ram a neon green dildo up his ass while I blew him."

Jasper guffawed. "I should've pegged that old geezer for a freak." Isabella joined in on the laughter. "Speaking of old geezers…what's the latest with Cullen?"

"I'm seeing him on Sunday, and he's taking me away for Valentine's Day."

"Aww, how sweet," Jasper mocked, slipping a finger inside her slick pussy. "Do I hear wedding bells?"

She shrugged but shuddered, not able to completely concentrate on a conversation when Jasper was getting her off. "Hopefully. The sooner the better, right?"

"That's the plan. We need that capital to keep up the momentum for the campaign."

"Mhmmm," she squeaked, ready to tip over the edge just as he added a second finger and started to lick her neck.

"We're almost there, baby. It's all coming together."

**$GREED$**

After she finished her shopping spree with Carlisle's AMEX card, Isabella climbed into the back of the town car, and pulled out her phone to text Edward. With all the preparations to go away for Valentine's Day with Carlisle, she'd neglected to let Edward know that she needed to flip their weekends. It wasn't like he'd have any plans, so she was sure he wouldn't care in the least.

Ever since they graduated, Isabella and Edward had become much closer. Though they never _ever_ spoke of their feelings, she knew she had a friend in him and whenever he asked anything of her, she helped him without thinking twice. She'd moved to Dallas after graduation while Edward, of course, remained in Austin. The drive was over five hours between their two homes, but Isabella made it a point to go down to visit with him at least once a month and she'd spend the night in his guest room. Edward was concerned that she'd be taking the trip on her own, so at the end of the summer after their graduation he'd made arrangements— which she'd agreed to after much convincing— that Felix would become her driver. Felix still helped Edward whenever possible, but as a new entrepreneur, he knew he needed to make a couple of changes in his reclusive life in order to be successful. He still never left his house, but at least he'd overcome his fear of being seen and made his necessary deals via computer by becoming proficient in Skype and other avenues of cyber communication.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out how Isabella earned most of her money, but Felix was ever the professional, never saying a word except when she teased him outright. He simply smiled and drove her whenever she called on him. He took his orders from Edward, who only cared about Isabella's safety. He hated that he didn't have the nerve to move himself to Dallas so that he could still see her more frequently, but with Felix keeping an eye on her, it calmed him a bit.

As far as Isabella knew, Edward believed she earned her paycheck as a staffer for Senator Whitlock. The fact that she fucked Jasper, and many others, in order to keep her bank account nicely padded was her own business. To be honest, the thought of Edward knowing what she did was the only time she felt any sense of guilt about her vile actions. There was such an innocence in him, it almost shamed her at the thought that he could ever find out she was selling her body to the highest bidder in order to gain as much power and influence as possible.

**Hi there. My week has been crazy and I totally forgot to ask you if we can reschedule our weekend. I'm going away for work. Can I come see you on the weekend of the 21****st****?**

His response took longer than normal.

_**It's okay to reschedule, but something's just come up that I really need to discuss with you as soon as possible. Is there any chance you can come here before you go away for the weekend?**_

Isabella flipped to this week's calendar. She didn't have any responsibilities until Thursday evening with Emmett. And truth be told, once she and Carlisle went public with their relationship, Emmett would probably drop her like a bad habit…or maybe he wouldn't? It made no difference to Isabella. She was fine continuing their rendezvous as long as he kept paying. Of course, she'd be Emmett's stepmother at that point. The thought made her cackle out loud. Maybe he'd start calling her "Mommy" in bed.

_Sick, sick, sick_, Isabella laughed at herself while she texted back. She knew she was going straight to hell, but it would be a lovely ride.

**Not a problem. Give me tonight to organize things and pack a bag, then Felix and I will come down tomorrow and stay till Wednesday.**

_**I appreciate it. Thank you, Isabella. **_

"Felix, I'm rearranging my week and we're heading down to see Edward tomorrow. Does that work for you?"

"Yes, ma'am. Not a problem."

She started to raise the privacy window, but stopped when Felix started talking again.

"You know, they're predicting that ice storm to hit late Tuesday night. If it happens, it might hinder our traveling on Wednesday."

Isabella shrugged. "Well, if it does, we'll just come back early on Thursday. Edward sounded pretty insistent that he needs to see me. I don't want to let him down."

**$GREED$**

"Thanks for coming," Edward smiled, holding the door open for them. Felix brought up her overnight bag and dropped it in the guest bedroom as she made herself comfortable in the darkened living room. The sky was eerie with the threatening storm. Maybe the weather gurus got it right for once.

"I'm going to take care of this list, Edward. I'll be back a little later."

"Okay, thanks Felix."

Isabella gave Felix a wave as Edward came over and sat next to her on the couch. He turned and flashed a wistful smile. "It means a lot that you dropped everything to come down here for me."

"Anything for you, my dear," she joked, quickly touching his hand. "So, what's this all about?"

He looked at the windows as they started to ping with the sound of rain mixed in with sleet.

"Truth be told, I was looking forward to our weekend together, but then when you cancelled, I knew I couldn't put off seeing you."

Isabella cocked her head, trying to read him better. "Well, you've got me now. And I'm sorry I had to reschedule on you like that. I take my calendar very seriously, and completely failed in not telling you ahead of time."

He waved her off with a shrug. "It's all right. I just miss you and the way we used to hang out during school."

She nodded. "Yeah, we had some silly times in this dark apartment." They both laughed at her quip. "So, what's on the roster for the rest of the afternoon? Clue? Monopoly? Battleship?"

"We can definitely play some games, but I wanted to show you something, too."

He picked up a remote control and aimed it toward the impressive, ebony bookcase. A double-shelf of books turned gingerly in silence and a big screen television suddenly appeared in its place. Her eyes were wide with shock.

"Holy shit, you bought a TV?" Isabella giggled and jumped up from the couch to examine the machine. "What made you do this?"

"You're always talking about your television shows. I figured it was time to see what all the fuss was about."

She turned around with a smile on her face and found it matched his. "Well, this is a fun surprise, Edward Masen. You get a gold star for this move." She sat back down next to him, practically nudging his hip. "I'm proud of you."

Those four words lit up the insides of Edward's heart like a fireworks display on the Fourth of July. It made him want to believe in his plans for the future. He just had to wait for the right moment to make his intentions known.

.

.

.

"So, your timing couldn't have been more perfect," Isabella announced to Edward who just walked into the living room, freshly showered. "A quarter of an inch of ice accumulated over night. There's a state of emergency across almost all of Texas. Felix and I won't be able to go anywhere until tomorrow."

Edward snickered. "I doubt he'll mind very much."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because he finally got a chance to take out a girl he's been communicating with for the last couple of months. He already called me to ask if I needed him for anything today."

Isabella's jaw dropped. "You mean he's downstairs in his apartment with a girl? And she spent the night with him?"

Edward smiled, nodding shyly. "Well, you spent the night here, too. Doesn't mean that anything happened between them."

"HA!" She couldn't help the obnoxious laugh that burst forth. "You're so cute, Edward. You're a rookie and clueless, but totally cute."

He walked toward the kitchen, trying to hide the hurt he felt at that jab. Just because he'd never acted on his desires toward the opposite sex didn't mean he was completely devoid of them.

"Want some waffles?"

"Yeah, sounds great!" Isabella flicked the remote, fell into the couch and got lost in the brainless world of the _Real Housewives of Atlanta_.

.

.

.

By mid-afternoon, Edward's building had lost power and they were playing Scrabble by candlelight. The irony of being back in his dark apartment again wasn't lost on Isabella. Did it ever really matter whether the electricity worked?

"Can I ask you a question?"

Isabella nodded as she plunked down two more tiles with the word _shy_. "Go for it. Triple word score, by the way."

"Did you ever have a nickname growing up, or were you always Isabella?"

She chuffed. "Actually, my mom called me Bella. She said one of the nurses who helped deliver me was Italian and kept referring to me as _bella faccia_ when I was born."

"Beautiful face."

"You speak Italian?" She smiled, shaking her head. "Of course you do. I should've known. But yeah, Bella stuck…even though I never really bought into it."

"Bought into what?"

"That I had a beautiful face…that I was beautiful at all." She shrugged. "That's why I insisted on being called Isabella in school and stuff."

Edward played the word _try_ vertically off her _shy_. "What if I started calling you Bella?"

Their eyes locked and her breath caught in her throat. "Why would you do that?"

He hesitated, but then drew from a pool of inner strength he didn't even know existed. "Because you are." Edward forced out a sigh of relief but was met with silence. "Say something…please."

Isabella straightened her posture and uncrossed her legs. "What do you want me to say?" she croaked, unsure for the first time in her life.

Edward promised himself before she arrived that he was going to be brutally honest with her before she left to go away for the weekend. He had nothing to lose at this point.

"Let me call you Bella, because you are…" His hand crept across the board and he laid it on top of hers and jumped off the cliff. "I—I want to be with you. I've felt this way for a long time." He took another deep breath. "This is me being straight with you. I've fallen in love with you, Bella, and I— I want you to make love to me."

Her mind raced. If any other man dropped on her a line like that, she'd bat her eyes and do what came naturally. But with Edward, he was untouched. And she was…dirty. So dirty. She never had a pang of guilt or shame over the way she lived her life. She set goals, she worked hard for them. She used her intelligence on a daily basis, but she did it while she spread her legs so that the right people would listen. Always in pursuit of money…always in pursuit of power. That was the pinnacle.

Only Edward, in his innocence, could make her feel remorseful over the depravity of her life's choices. He didn't deserve this blemish on him. She had no problem living the life she did…but to tarnish Edward's world? She'd never forgive herself.

Isabella stood up from their board game on the floor. "I'm gonna go lie down."

"Bella, wait."

She whipped her head around. "It's Isabella, Edward. And please…just don't."

He scrambled up off the floor and followed her into his guest room as she stretched out on the bed with her back to him.

"Isabella, please don't shut me out."

"You mean like you've shut the world out? How you've holed yourself up in this lap of luxury lifestyle, but don't bother turning on the fucking lights to see the beauty that surrounds you?" Her head crashed back on the pillow after she made her valid argument. "You're a goddamn hypocrite."

"I—I have a clinical disorder."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…and you could get help." She shook her head. "Don't bullshit a bullshitter, Edward. I lay it on nice and thick every day in my job. I play a part to get a job done."

"I know."

"Yeah, whatever…you know," she seethed. "Do you even have a fucking clue what I do for a living?"

"You work for Senator Whit—"

"As an _escort_, Edward. Yes, I'm on his staff, but I've also been having an affair with him for almost two years, and I sleep with men for money. _Lots_ of men. He's practically my pimp. I earn gobs of money for me, yes, but also money for him and his campaign. Together we're going to get all the way to Pennsylvania Avenue."

Edward swallowed tightly, listening to Isabella's confession. "I know all of that."

She tossed a look over her shoulder. "You know I'm a whore and you still want me?" She shook her head. "I should've known Felix was a talker."

"It wasn't Felix. He's never betrayed your confidence."

She was annoyed and intrigued enough now to turn over and sit up. "So how then?"

He shook his head. "Somebody else I hired to follow you." Her face blanched at his confession. "It was more for your protection than anything else. I was always so worried for your safety."

"Let's set aside for a second the fact that you had some freak stalk me for God knows how long. We can come back to that later. But, knowing all that you know about me…you want me to fuck you? Like you're just another dick with a hefty bank account that I can get my hands on? I've never made love a day in my life."

"I just thought maybe—"

"That's your problem, Edward, you think too much." She flopped back onto her side, punching the pillow under her head. "Fuck you. Fuck you for thinking that any of this seduction scene would work. How dare you put me in this position?!"

Edward's stomach was in his throat. He'd messed this up so terribly. For the first time in his life, he was actually fearful of losing something he'd allowed himself to care about. Minutes passed. Since he'd come clean just as she had, he figured there was no reason to pull back now. He tentatively laid down next to Isabella, mirroring her position even though her back was still to him.

"Please don't go away this weekend."

"I have to."

"You don't," he pleaded. "You could stay with me. I could show you what's real…what's true."

Isabella shook her head as tears spilled from her eyes. Damn Edward for trying to pull her back. She knew what she was doing. He couldn't be what she needed from this life. He just didn't get it…and he never would. She lived for being the center of attention…lived for the daylight. She'd never find happiness and contentment in the shadows.

.

.

.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Isabella stirred when the bed shifted behind her. She'd cried herself to sleep earlier, not realizing Edward must've stayed. It was comforting…and heartbreaking.

"Are you awake?"

"Yes," she replied softly. Her tone held the anguish and guilt that she despised feeling. Again, an unfamiliar emotion and she hated every moment of it.

"I have something for you."

She turned over and found Edward sitting at the edge of the bed holding a small, antique-looking bedside lamp. With a bulb. And it was on. A light was on in Edward's house.

"I uhhh— I bought this for you last month. I mean, technically it's for me," he said ruefully. "I was going to give it to you as a Valentine's Day gift."

She stared at him, then back at the lamp. This was unprecedented. Incredible. The effort he made in just this very ordinary gesture must've terrified him. But he stepped out on a ledge and did it anyway. He turned a_ light_ on in his house. It tugged at the edges of Isabella's shredded, darkened heart.

"I figured we'd keep it in this guest room…your room. When you're here, there's always a natural light. But then when you're gone, at least I'll still have something that can shine in your place."

Isabella couldn't focus on anything but him. His words, his innocent looks and this amazingly thoughtful and courageous gift.

She flew across the bed and her lips collided with his. He was tentative at first, but didn't pull away. He'd bolstered himself in the hopes that she'd return his feelings someday. When the reality hit him that he was actually kissing Isabella, he moaned and slipped his tongue in her mouth. Their kiss was slow and wet…sensual. Everything he'd imagined it would be.

She'd been up on her knees, running her fingers through his hair as he dropped the lamp on the floor and pushed her backwards into the pillows. Once his body covered hers, he found his voice again.

"I don't know what I'm doing."

She cupped his cheek and kissed him chastely. "That's okay…I do."

They slowly undressed each other, kissing along the way. He was gentle with her. She studied him as he kissed her ankles, behind her knees, her wrists. His tongue flicked at her erect nipples and she rocked into his hand, trying to find relief as the pads of his fingers grazed her clit.

He never lost his nerve and for that moment, she dropped the persona she always projected with her other clients.

This was Edward. He was different…and he deserved different.

"I don't have any uhh…protection," he whispered while she sucked on his neck, his hands roaming and discovering all he wanted to know about her body.

She pulled away and reached for her purse on the night stand, removing a condom from an inside pocket. Not wanting to embarrass him by asking, Isabella took care of sheathing him and straddled his lap. With their eyes locked, she sank down slowly and stilled when he was fully engulfed within her.

"Are you okay?" she purred, running her hands down his chest.

He nodded rapidly. "Are you?"

She smiled. "Just relax."

Isabella did her best to help his first time be a memorable one. Her hips rolled as she moved up and down, drawing out his pleasure. When she leaned forward, her breasts rubbed against his chest hair while they kissed and nipped at each other. He met her thrusts, a death grip on her ass that made her feel possessed by him.

Just as she sped up, Isabella was startled when Edward wrapped his arms around her back and rolled them over. They exchanged smirks and he began to drive into her without hesitation.

"Fuck," she panted, "right there, Edward…yes."

Her words spurred him on while boosting his ego, encouraging him to plunge into her harder, faster. When she brought her legs up, so that her knees were alongside his shoulders, he groaned at the adjustment and kissed her feverishly. Just as her orgasm hit and she tightened and pulsed around him, he put his weight on his propped arms to watch where their bodies were joined.

"Oh, God."

Her lips found his again and she swirled her tongue in his mouth. When she squeezed him, his hips pistoned, deep and hard before he shuddered, losing his rhythm through an earth-shattering orgasm.

Their kiss slowed and he pulled his face back to look in her eyes, the lamp still illuminating the room from its position on the floor. She offered him a soft smile that didn't reach her eyes, but he was too high from their encounter to really pay attention. She knew this changed nothing about her future, but it changed everything about her relationship with Edward.

Nobody was going to walk away from this night unscathed.

.

.

.

"Where are you going?"

Isabella glanced his way but continued to shove her clothes in her bag before she pulled on her sneakers.

"I need to be back in Dallas by three. Felix is pulling the car around to the front for me now."

Edward shook his head in disbelief. "You're— you're still leaving? But I thought last night meant—"

"Last night meant nothing."

The life in his eyes vanished, his shoulders slumped forward. Isabella froze after hearing the words that hung in the air. She didn't mean that being together with him meant nothing. She meant to say that it didn't change anything.

"Nothing," he repeated.

"I can't reverse my course, Edward. I have a plan, and I need to stick to it. I never meant for any of this to happen. Of all the people in the world, you're the last person I'd _ever_ want to hurt…you have to know that. But I won't change who I am…not even for you."

Anger and betrayal flooded his mind and shattered heart. He sprang from the bed, still naked and stomped across the hall to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Isabella flinched at the loud crack, but wouldn't be deterred. She could've amended her words, but perhaps if she left them the way they were interpreted, it would help Edward have a clean break.

She closed her eyes in resolve and hoisted her bag on her shoulders, walking out of her room. Before she got to the door, she heard his bedroom door swing open again and she turned.

"Here." Edward surged forward, now wearing jeans. "I don't know what the going rate is, but I wouldn't want you to do anything pro bono." He shoved a fist full of cash toward her chest.

Tears stung at the corners of her eyes, but she tried to pull herself back. "Don't do this, Edward."

"What? I'm a paying customer, right? And like you told me, you're a whore trying to add to your gobs of money, so take it. A thousand? Two? You spent the night, I don't know if that adds to the tab." He stared daggers into her eyes, unflinching. "What do I owe you?"

Isabella couldn't stop the tear that escaped. She studied his hand and made a decision which would hopefully be the final nail in the coffin that ended this painful moment.

"Three for the night, including services rendered."

He nodded, satisfied. "Not bad." Edward counted out thirty hundred-dollar bills and placed them in her open palm. "Thanks for your time."

He spun on his bare feet and stormed back toward his bedroom, slamming the door again. Tears flooded her eyes and a sob escaped. As quickly as the emotions washed over her, she scrubbed her face and cleared her throat.

She needed to get her head back in the game. It was Thursday and Emmett would be expecting her this evening.

**$GREED$**

Carlisle scooped Isabella up early on Friday morning, grabbed the Cullen jet and by noon, they were relaxing on a private beach in St. Maarten having just christened their double lounge chair.

"Was this a good surprise?" he murmured while his lips ghosted over her sun-kissed shoulders.

She smiled as best she could. "Very. This is a treat." She rolled toward him and nuzzled his neck while his hand danced up her naked side.

"I have something to say to you." She licked and kissed him below his jaw and he chuckled. "But I can't get through it while you're distracting me."

"Sorry," she stopped lazily stroking his cock and giggled. "I'll behave."

Carlisle reached behind him and opened up a small velvet box to her widening eyes. She was staring at a four-karat, emerald cut diamond. She knew this might happen soon, but certainly didn't expect it this weekend.

"Isabella, I love you. These last ten months have been amazing for me. You've changed my world. I know turning away from your life as an escort wasn't easy, but you did it for me and it showed me how much you trusted me, believing I could give you the better life you deserved."

She smiled…played her part. It was all coming together like Jasper said it would.

"And I want to marry you. I want to marry you this weekend."

"What?" she sputtered. He couldn't be serious.

"Just hear me out." He pulled her up into a sitting position on their chair. "I haven't been completely honest with you."

Her brows furrowed. "What's going on?"

"I'm sick, really sick," he confessed, sighing. "I only found out two weeks ago and knew I needed to make some fast decisions. I want to know that you'll be by my side for however long I have. Esme was the love of my life and the mother of my child, but you've been the shot in my arm I needed ever since I lost her two years ago.

"You've made me laugh and allowed me to feel as if I was the luckiest man in the world to have you on my arm. I know I'm not who you imagined you'd spend forever with, but I've cherished this time together and I thank you. And I want to continue to thank you…for as long as I have left."

Isabella swallowed, looking between Carlisle's sincere eyes and the dazzling diamond in the red velvet box. She was about to inherit Cullen Oil from her nearly-deceased husband-to-be. This was a no-brainer.

"Of course I'll marry you."

**.**

**.**

**.**

Isabella and Carlisle were wed two days later at sunset on the beach. He knew Emmett wouldn't approve of Isabella, because nobody could ever take the place of his mother. And he respected that enough to not rub it in his son's face. Emmett knew his father had been seeing somebody for several months, but Emmett also told Carlisle he wanted nothing to do with this new fling.

Isabella, after talking to Jasper, cleared her schedule to give as much attention to her new husband as he deserved. Almost immediately after they were married, she could see how his energy was waning and the pill-popping he did when he was in pain was a clear indicator that there was only a finite amount of time that Carlisle had left. Stage four cancer, advancing at an alarming rate…he never even bothered to consider chemo or radiation. He just wanted some painkillers and to live out his final days as happily as possible.

It made her wistful to some degree. He'd always been sweet to her, treated her like a queen. But it was never about love…it was never about love with any of them, not even Jasper. Not even Edward.

It was only ever about the bottom line. And if any or all of the men that Isabella screwed along the way gained her more power, then it would always be worth it. There was nothing more to think about.

Once Carlisle was bedridden, he was medevac'd home to Dallas where hospice was called in to help Isabella in his final days. Emmett was waiting for them when they arrived.

Unable to hide his confusion and then shock when Isabella walked through his father's door, Emmett stood in stunned silence. _This_ was the woman his father had been seeing?

While the hospice team set Carlisle up in his bedroom, Emmett took that opportunity to pull Isabella by the arm into his father's office downstairs.

"Care to explain what the fuck is going on here?"

Isabella shrugged, innocence playing on her face. "What? Your father is dying and he could use your compassion."

"I mean, why the fuck are you here, with a goddamn iceberg on your ring finger and why is my father calling you 'sweetheart'? _You're_ the one he's been seeing since last year?"

"Yes."

Emmett cringed in disgust and stepped toward her, towering over her small frame. "So all the while we were meeting, you mean to tell me you were fucking my father at the same time?"

She nodded, not understanding why Emmett couldn't fathom the connection of the amoral dots. This was her job, and she excelled at her job.

"How could you do this?"

"Emmett, you've known since the first night we met that I was an escort. My client list was never any business of yours, so it seemed of little significance that I tell you. What I do, and _who_ I do— when I'm not with you— has nothing to do with us."

His hands flew to his head. "It has EVERYTHING to do with us. I was sleeping with the same woman my father was sleeping with! This is fucking incestuous!"

Isabella rolled her eyes. "Oh, Emmett. Don't be so dramatic. I care about your father. He's a genuine man who's only ever been kind to me. I gave him a good time and made him feel happy when he was terribly lonely. I did what I do best. Don't go getting holier than thou and destroying your father's feelings days before he dies. Keep your mouth shut. This doesn't have to change anything between us."

Emmett barked out a laugh. "The fuck it doesn't!" He threw the office door open and darted out the front door without looking back. Isabella's only regret in that moment was the thought that she'd be losing two clients in such a short span of time.

.

.

.

Two days later, with Isabella by his side, Carlisle passed away. His wish was to be cremated and interred with his first wife. A memorial service was planned for two weeks after his death, but not before Emmett and Isabella were brought to Carlisle's lawyer's office for the reading of his will. They were each given individual letters, hand-written by Carlisle before he became incapacitated.

"As it stands, Mr. Cullen's assets will be split evenly between the two of you. He said you'd find the reasons in your personal letters. And with Cullen Oil no longer a factor, those moneys from the sale will simply be halved as well.

"No longer a factor?" Emmett parroted, bewildered.

Isabella's confusion only grew as she opened her letter.

_My darling wife, _

_Though we've only had a short time together, you've given this old man an infinite supply of happy memories. Thank you for being by my side. Ever since Esme died, I'd lost interest in continuing the ruthless business decisions that accompanied my work as the head of Cullen Oil. I would have bequeathed the company to Emmett, but I've always believed that the cornerstone of every marriage was monogamy. People who cheat on their spouses are willing to cheat on anything and everything, and I just don't trust Emmett to not sully the Cullen Oil legacy. I'd been fielding offers over the last year but never acted on anything…until my recent diagnosis. I knew I had to make a fast decision and the most recent offer that came across my desk while we honeymooned was the one that felt right. I got a good feeling from the young man I spoke to who was interested in purchasing. He's up and coming, but has still made a good name for himself as an entrepreneur. I knew he was the right choice. And though I sold him the company for a pittance, I know I did the right thing. It reminded me of helping you start out. Helping you turn your life around…giving you the opportunity you needed to do great things. _

_Please take the money I've left you and be happy, my dear. It's all I've ever wanted in my life, and I hope you find it for the remainder of yours._

_All my love, _

_Carlisle_

Isabella felt sick to her stomach as she refolded the letter. The lawyer was typing at his computer and didn't take notice. Emmett on the other hand crumpled up his letter, stood and walked out without another word.

"Th—thank you," Isabella croaked to the man behind the desk.

"You're quite welcome, Mrs. Cullen. So sorry for your loss. We'll messenger over any documents you need to sign. You'll need to be your husband's proxy for the final transaction in the sale of the company."

She nodded, feeling a thickness tighten in her throat, threatening to cut off her breathing.

"Do you have the name of the individual taking over?"

He shuffled through some papers, retrieving one. "Yes. An E.A. Masen. And he bought it for a song. Your husband might've been losing his marbles there in the end."

Isabella felt faint and excused herself from the office. In the lobby she met up with Emmett.

"As if finding out that my father was fucking the same whore I was wasn't bad enough, he went and sold the company right out from under me because I was cheating on Rose." Emmett laughed maniacally. "Cheating on Rose with _his_ girlfriend…and now I'm left with nothing. Ain't that some shit. Now I get to work for some little pimple-popper who's probably never even played Monopoly."

Emmett turned without a goodbye, trudging away.

"Oh, he's played Monopoly," she muttered. "I taught him everything he knows."

Isabella pulled out her phone and dialed the private line Jasper established years ago just for her.

"_Yes."_

"Jasper, we have a problem. I just came from Carlisle's lawyer's office. He sold Cullen Oil for not even a fraction of what it's worth." She shook her head, tears welling up, thinking about all the time lost. All the opportunities that have flown right out the window…so much power, just gone. "What do we do, now?"

"_I have bigger problems than that right now. Seems my name has been linked to some shady dealings. Anonymous tips brought to the attention of people who have the ability to squash my career."_

She lowered herself to a bench, still in the lobby of the law office. This can't be happening.

"What? Who would do this to you?"

"_It's gotta be Peter. I fired him last week when I found him on my personal laptop. I don't know what the fuck he was looking for, but he must've found something. We're not going to be able to stay in contact, Isabella. I have a feeling, if it is Peter and he's that pissed, your name is going to be dropped, too."_

The walls started to close in. Everything Isabella had planned for, been determined to get, was suddenly slipping through her fingers.

"_I can't talk. My advisors just arrived. Good luck, Isabella."_

She knew that translation. When the shit hits the fan, it would be every man for himself. There would be no escape.

Isabella took a deep breath and stalked out of the building. Felix straightened at the car door.

"Take me to Austin."

**.**

**.**

**.**

The same steel door opened and Isabella marched inside. Edward stood there, unmoving, his eyes trained on hers.

"I just have one question…why?"

"It's not personal," he replied, indifferently.

She stepped to him quickly and shoved him. "What do you mean it's not personal? This is my life! You ripped away every chance I've worked for!"

"And I offered you an opportunity to walk away from all that. From this shitty life that you've deluded yourself into thinking was smart and beautiful and powerful and prestigious. You were always all of those things, you just never believed in yourself like I believed in you."

Isabella batted away the angry tears that streamed down her face. "And to think I felt sorry for you. You've leveled me, Edward. You're just as disgusting as all the other men I've dealt with…you just hid in the shadows. But I see you now. Your black and white, darkness and light life has been exposed. Your true colors have been splashed all over the place. You're just as tarnished as I am."

Edward said nothing more. What Isabella said wasn't untrue. What he did was horribly devious; he knew he'd be fucking her over. As heinous as this move was, though, the bedside lamp remained lit in the guest room. He never had the balls to turn it off, he just shifted his game once she slaughtered him back in February.

"I'm sure you'll be just fine, Mrs. Cullen. Your dearly departed husband hardly left you destitute."

"You must really hate me."

"What I feel for you doesn't matter. I meant _**nothing**_, if I remember correctly."

His flippant tone cut her to the quick.

"What I did will barely even be worth mentioning once you make it to Pennsylvania Avenue, right?"

"**Mrs. Cullen?"** Felix's voice blared through the intercom system**. "I think you're going to want to leave as soon as possible, ma'am. Your picture is on the television right now. You're being linked to the senator in—"**

She interrupted him, not wanting Edward to feel any shred of remorse if he heard the truth of what was about to happen to her world. "Thank you, Felix. I'm on my way."

"Why is your picture on the television?" The concern in his voice seeped through, unintentionally.

Isabella stared back at Edward with empty eyes. All the life he used to see in them, all the light was suddenly gone. Drive was suddenly replaced with exhaustion.

"Nothing you need to worry yourself about." She made her way to the door, every step heavier with the knowledge that her personal life was already front-page news. The guillotine platform stood tall in the distance, the gleam of the blade a reminder of her countless sins.

"Good luck, Isabella." Edward called out behind her. "Like I said, it wasn't personal, it was a smart business decision. It's all about power, right? Thanks for teaching me what counts."

* * *

**A/N: Ouch. The bigger they come, the harder they fall.**

**Many readers of The Sinners compilation have asked that I extend this story in the hopes that one or more of the characters can find some redemption. I don't know how long the story will become, but I will do a bit more down the road (probably in the summer after I've moved) to give Edward and Bella (and perhaps others) a bit more resolution. Put this story (and/or me) on alert if you want to see a happier ending for these characters. If you think they got what they deserved by the end of this one, then no alerts for you. ;)**

**It was an awesome privilege to be a part of The Sinners compilation. Please go read and review the other stories under the author name, The Sinners, or the title, _SALIGIA_. Many thanks to LayAtHomeMom (Gluttony), Dazzledin2008 (Pride), Planetblue (Lust), SexiLexiCullen (Sloth), JonesnInDaHood (Wrath), Gothic Temptress (Envy). All of the stories are phenomenal, and I was honored to be included in this group of talented ladies. You can find the link to our compilation on my profile and under my favorites, as well.**

**Many thanks to Jonesy, Hoodfabulous and LayAtHomeMom for all of their support in pre-reading this bad boy, and to my MFEO beta, LaMomo, who wanted to know where her sweet, innocent, HEA-needing Yummy disappeared to after reading this. Love you to the Motherland and back, my dear. Heartfelt thanks to Ceci Lolypowski who made my fantastical banner for this o/s. And finally, huge thanks to all who read and review. **

**Final chapter of _Tip of the Spear_ will be posting in about a week. **

**xo, Jen**


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